Michael's Thoughts

I couldn’t fucking believe it when I saw them on the dance floor wrapped around each other with their tongues down each others fucking throats.

Goddamned Justin. How the Hell did he ever get the balls to show up again after the shit he pulled. If he had any idea how much he hurt Brian, if he had a fucking conscience, he would get the fuck away and never come back.

And Brian. I can’t fucking believe that he would take that little shit back after the way he was jerked around and humiliated and stomped on by that shit.

And the others seemed so Goddamned happy—that’s what I couldn’t believe. OK, I couldn’t believe any of it when you come right down to it.

Brian took Justin back.

Jesus.

OK, I can understand why Justin wanted Brian. Shit, anyone with eyes wants Brian, but he’s just looking at him as plan B after the fiddler failed to live up to whatever the fuck he was supposed to live up to—whatever fantasy of perfect love that Justin has in that fucking head of his.

He was looking for a meal ticket again and the prestige of being with Brian and the security of knowing that Brian will be there to pick him up the next time he screws up again, just like Brian has been doing for the last couple of years. No matter what shit Justin hands him, he just keeps coming back for more.

Jesus, Brian. This is so not like you.

You don’t give a shit, remember?

You don’t do boyfriends, remember that, too?

And how about the big one—you don’t do love. Whatever happened to that one?

You think that this one is different than the others? Bullshit. He’s using you, that’s all he’s doing and you’re so fucking caught up in it that you’re seeing fucking stars.

Jesus, Brian.

This isn’t you.

What the fuck happened to you?

Is he that good a lay?

Does he look at you with those big blue eyes and tell you whatever the shit it is you think you need to hear? Do you actually believe him?

Do you really think that this one might love you, that he stays around because you’re the man of his dreams and that he’ll put up with your shit? You think he’s the one who’s going to keep the fucking nightmares away?

I know that’s what you want. I know it—it’s what you’ve always wanted from someone.

Shit, I may not be as smart as you are, but I figured that out pretty fast. I figured that one out when we were still back in high school

Damnit, Brian. It’s not him.

I don’t understand why no one else sees through the little shit. Mom, Ben, the girls, even Ted and Emmett think that little Sunshine is fucking perfect and that Brian is lucky to have him.

Why is it that I’m the only one who’s noticed that Brian was a basket case when the shit walked out on him a few months ago? He was holding on by his frigging fingernails and no one gave a crap except me.

No one gets it.

Brian says all that shit and it’s all a big cover up for how he really feels and what he really thinks—OK some of them know that, but they all have it wrong. They all think that what he thinks is worse than the shit he says, but the truth is hat he thinks he’s nothing, that no one wants him, that no one could possible love him, that he’ll end up old and fucking along and with no one giving a shit about him.

He does. I know it.

He told me once.

He said, “Mikey, when we’re old, will you call me once in a while?” And he had this look on his face and I said that when we were old we’d probably be a couple of old fags sharing a place in the Keys or something and he got all serious and he said, “No. I mean it. When we’re old—call me, OK?”

He does, he thinks that he’ll never have anyone who’ll love him and then fucking Justin walked in and Brian thought he’d found his fucking savior.

That’s why Brian throws the tricks out—did you know that? He throws them out before they can leave on their own.

He thought he’d found the one who would stay.

I thought that it would be me. I did, at least for a while, anyway. I hoped that it would be but I think I know that it’ll never happen with us.

I wonder what he’s like though—in bed. I know he’s supposed to be incredible and part of me wishes that I could know what all the noise is about, but I don’t think it will ever happen.

The others think I’m jealous of Justin.

I’m not—not really.

I’m worried about Brian.

Right now he’s happy and on top of the world and he’s a partner and making tons of money and he thinks he has Justin back and he has the fancy new car and I think he’s even mostly put his fucking family behind him.

I’m just so frigging scared that something is going to happen and it’s going to all come crashing down on his head.

When it happens, I’ll be there, just like he’d be there for me, just like I know the twink won’t be.

We’re still best friends, Damnit.

Always have been, always will be.

And Justin is going to screw him over. Again.

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